


Room Service

by BuckinghamAlice



Category: Superman/Batman (Comics)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, I suck at this tagging business, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 09:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckinghamAlice/pseuds/BuckinghamAlice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While having fabulous vacation sex, Clark gets a little rougher than usual and leaves a few new marks on Bruce.  He is upset with himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Room Service

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda caught the superbat feels and accidentally fic'ed
> 
> Inspired by the following prompt from OTP Prompts on tumblr:
> 
> http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/57642844409/imagine-your-couple-having-a-long-night-of
> 
> Imagine your couple having a long night of incredible hot sex. It gets really intense and a little rougher than usual. The next morning, Person B wakes up holding Person A and notices that they have left bites and bruises on A’s body from the intensity of it. A wakes up and is a little sore and achy but really happy and contented from the night before. B is having a little guilt and A has to reassure them that it was okay.

What was it about vacation sex?

Clark had been… ravenous. Bruce had been pinned to the door of their suite, clothes flying. Clark had zipped them over to the bed before Bruce even realized they were moving, and the taller man straddled the smaller one, laying him flat. Bruce had thrown his neck back and exposed the tender flesh there as Clark pinned his wrists above his head. As Clark’s hands and mouth desperately roamed his body, he bucked up against him, wanting him, needing him. He arched his legs up and muttered one word: “Please.“ When Clark released Bruce’s wrists, his hands slid down Bruce’s body and grabbed his hips, raising him just slightly as Bruce held onto him like he thought he could fall off the face of the earth by letting go.

And the fucking was good and hard and loud and it hurt so good.

Afterwards, Clark wrapped him in those strong arms and they fell asleep, cuddling under Egyptian cotton sheets and down pillows in a bed that somehow seemed bigger and softer than the one at home.

Yes, there was something to this vacation idea.

***********************

Bruce woke up first the next morning and his stirring woke Clark. “Go back to sleep,” Bruce whispered, brushing his hand gently along Clark’s jaw. Clark smiled and shook his head. “You’re going to order breakfast, yeah?”

“Of course,” Bruce replied. “It’s not vacation without room service. I was listening.”

Clark propped himself up on one elbow and smiled. “Good boy.” He closed his eyes again, just briefly, to think back to the previous night and his cheeks colored slightly. It was always good with Bruce, but that night… wow.

He heard Bruce pick up the phone on the nightstand and call in their breakfast order. His eyelids fluttered open as Bruce stood up, still naked from the night before, and stretched his arms over his head and yawned.

That was when Clark noticed the bruises on his hips, already turning shades of purple and yellow, the bite marks on his chest and neck, and the red scratch marks on his shoulder and sides. “Oh, Bruce!” Clark exclaimed, face clouding. Bruce stretched his arms out in front of him and his shoulder popped as Clark crept over to the edge of the bed and softly touched the mark on the smaller man‘s hip, which on closer inspection was the same shape and size as Clark’s own hand.

“Did I…? These are from me?” Clark asked, casting sad eyes up to Bruce. “Oh, I’m sorry, Bruce… I’m so sorry!”

Bruce had hardly noticed any of the marks and had thought nothing of the ones he had. “Oh, calm down,” he said softly, looking into Clark’s troubled face. “I get bruises all the time in my line of work. They’ll heal.” Clark shook his head and looked down in shame. “No,” he said. “These aren’t from work… they’re from me not being careful enough, and I’m sorry for that.”

Bruce smiled. “Don’t be sorry! None of this is that bad. I’ve had worse, and I’ll have worse again.”

Clark rolled his eyes. “You should have told me if I was hurting you,” he said. “I would have stopped what I was doing, and -- “

“And that’s why I didn’t say anything,” Bruce said, giving him a look that was an odd cross between withering and adoring that only he could manage. “You _didn’t_ hurt me, Clark. I liked everything that happened last night. Don’t blame yourself for a non-issue.”

“I’m usually so much more careful,” Clark replied, shaking his head. “I hate it when you’re hurt, and I hate to think that all that was my fault.”

Bruce reached for his robe, which was draped across the back of a chair next to the bed. “Clark, you could never hurt me.”

Clark huffed a little laugh and shook his head. “Well, actually, I could…”

“No,” Bruce said, shaking his head. He sat back down on the edge of the bed in front of Clark and very gently cradled his face in his hands. Clark’s blue eyes shone brilliantly as Bruce repeated, “You could _never_ hurt me.”

And the soft kiss then, the one that barely brushed across Clark’s lips and left him feeling warm and light, meant more than either of them could have imagined.

***********************

By the time they opened the door to their suite and found the breakfast trays waiting for them, the food and the coffee were both cold… but they didn’t care. Not at all.


End file.
